Assassins Creed: The Templar Order
by GelSurfer
Summary: At a young age, Assassins were taught to fight and assassinate their enemies - the Templars. And they did, for many, many years. Until Arno Dorian was born. A man who was recruited at the age of 19, Arno is a renowned Assassin who was often found associating with the Templars. Was he a spy? Or did he hold a secret unknown to even his brothers? AC Unity where Elise lives.
1. Prophecy

_My love,_

 _As I write this you are asleep. If the light wakes you, I will have some explaining to do, but at this moment you are sleeping peacefully. Tomorrow is the day, it seems - the culmination of five long years, our moment of revenge. So why can I not quiet this part of me which fears that, at the tipping point, you will flinch?_

 _Is it that I fear you loved my father less than I? Or that I doubt your resolve to strike the killing blow? I do not think so._

 _Rather, I fear that you have lost so much already, that you cannot bear to lose more. I think that you would let Germain rule France if you thought that it could save me. Have you ever known me to need saving? Have you ever had cause to think that I would accept it if it were offered?_

 _My fate is my own, my choice is my own. If somehow we both return from this, I will burn this letter. If you are reading it now, then I made my choice there in the Temple. Know that I made it gladly, and do not take the burden of it onto yourself._

 _Be at peace my love, and walk what path you will._

 _All my love,_

 _Elise._

A tear dropped from her eyes, smudging the ink as Elise lifted the pen from the table. Everything they had accomplished over the past 5 years seemed to meet together at one point - tomorrow. What would happen? What will fate decree for the two of them? Another wave of sadness washed over her as she looked upon the letter once more. She could imagine Arno sitting inside their old house in Versailles, drinking himself to sleep over her death and this letter. Trying to forget the pain that Germain had brought upon him through her death.

A sob racked her body, and with shaking hands, she folded the letter - slowly, methodically, until she felt a hand grab her shoulder.

Elise flinched, twisted around and tried to push off from her captor, only to find Arno standing behind her, a mask of emotions upon his face.

"Elise," he whispered.

She looked away, tears still evident in her eyes.

Arno lifted a hand and cupped her cheek, gently lifting her head toward his.

"Elise, look at me, please," he said.

Elise looked up, and found nothing but pure conviction and love. She watched his eyes light up, and sank into his embrace as he pulled her closer.

"No matter what, I will not leave you," he said.

"And Elise, I swear upon my life that we will walk out safely from the Temple, and that Germain, will be forever buried within it."

His face moved even closer to hers, until their lips were barely an inch apart. The gap quickly closed as Elise felt Arno place his lips upon hers, and for the first time ever, opened herself completely to another person.

 **-LINE BREAK-**

Elise woke to Arno's calm breathing, and gently untangled herself from his arms. Arno grunted and pushed himself up. The night had been long, and they were as ready as they could be. She smiled and stretched before pulling on her standard attire. Without words, she found Arno's hands and stepped out, absorbing the warmth of the sun.

Together, they climbed up upon the roofs of Paris, and ran in the direction of the Temple, a stone monolith that towered over the city of Paris. Just looking at it brought dark memories and dangerous thoughts to her mind. Their boots thumped quietly against the shingles, each step barely making a sound. From afar, the two may have looked like wraiths gliding in the dawn.

Before she knew it, they reached the Temple. The two stood there, quiet, enjoying the silence while it lasted.

Elise broke it first.

"You get a chance at Germain? You take it," each word sharp and empty.

With a leap, she ran off toward the stronghold, ignoring Arno's hurt look upon his face as he registered her words.

- **-LINE BREAK-**

Arno stared at Elise's figure, slowly growing smaller and smaller as she sprinted off towards the distance. A pang of guilt shot through his chest as he lifted his eyes to the castle.

His eyes flew across the terrain, surveying each guard's position and looking for a routine or pattern. There were almost none.

"Germain isn't playing, is he?" Arno muttered to himself.

Slowly, Arno stood up, balancing lightly upon the wooden planks underneath his feet before jumping off the building in a spread eagle. He felt the slight impact as his back slammed against hay.

No guards saw or heard him.

Quietly, Arno slipped out from the hay and moved to the wall, waiting for a group of guards to pass by before grasping the stone and pulling himself up onto the wall and knelt behind the cover of a few barrels.

In the distance, he could see one of the snipers making a circuit, about to reach his hiding place. Arno readied himself, muscles relaxed, breathing quiet and methodical. The man closed in, step by step. Two meters remained, then a meter, only then, did Arno dart out, grab the man, and silence him with a blade to his throat.

He moved carefully, avoiding loose bricks and taking light steps. One by one, the men guarding the walls fell without a sound as Arno made his own circuit around the fortress. He didn't stop until every single one of the guards had died.

Only until then, did Arno drop to the courtyard, his boots slightly thumping upon the ground. Quietly, Arno donned the outfit of an extremist and began listening in on a conversation.

"Did you hear about the Assassin?" one asked

"Who?"

"A man who has killed almost all of Germain's supporters. Germain warned that the man would be here today," he lowered his voice, "Germain also said that this man can singlehandedly free an entire castle, like this one."

"Hah! With sixty guards? Unlikely!" his partner continued, "Besides, the real worry is Germain himself! Have you seen the tower? Sometimes lightning just streams out of nowhere and hits it!"

"That's normal," he retorted.

"Yes, but the lightning comes out of the tower, it goes upward, and it appears in the middle of day!"

 _What is Germain up to?_ he questioned himself. His mind entertained dozens of far fetched ideas, but none seemed logical. Slowly, he began to drop back, only to quickly sprint to catch up with the guards.

"Do you know of Germain's current location? I have a message that I must deliver to him."

The guards looked up in surprise, "Germain remains in the summit, but to see him you need clearance."

"Thank you, my friend," Arno began to turn.

"Wait! Who ar-"

The men failed to finish their sentence as Arno silenced them.

"Merde," Arno swore under his breath, it would be seconds before their bodies were discovered, he would have to move quickly.

Immediately, Arno sprinted towards the citadel, found a handhold, and began to climb. One hand after the other, one foot after the other. His thoughts wandered and his fingers ached, but he ignored them.

With each passing second, Arno worried that a soldier would spot him and shoot him, but he continued his ascent.

 **-LINE BREAK-**

After a good fifteen minutes of painful, rough climbing, Arno pulled himself up onto a ledge at the summit of the citadel - only to come face to face with Germain.

Arno stood, dumbfounded for a millisecond before Germain pointed the blade at him. Something deep inside him, an inexplicable feeling of shock and nervousness much like the ability to see things that many could not, awoke, and right before the crackling bolt of energy speared him through, he dove into the cover of a large stone column. The lightning smashed into the stone and immediately cut through, leaving a crater where he had stood mere seconds ago.

"What the hell was that?"

Slowly, he peeked around the corner of the pillar, only to be met by a bolt of lightning again that just barely missed and streaked off into the distance before dissipating into the atmosphere.

This was a weapon that could kill in an instant. A weapon that could take on whole armies. And only then, as his heart continued to rise in his chest, did Arno realize the full magnitude of the situation and how dangerous this mission truly was for Elise and him.

"A weapon of the Isu..." he whispered.

As he stood with his back to the pillar, Arno contemplated just how ridiculous his and Elise's plight now seemed. Arno had hoped by all hopes that as a relatively standard Assassin, he would never have to face against a weapon of the magnitude that Altair and so many other great Assassins had faced. The very fact that he would have to accomplish something only the greatest Assassins had ever accomplished almost diminished all his hopes of assassinating Germain.

But then Elise's face appeared in the midst of his worry. And his resolve steeled.

As the smoke began to clear, he sprang forward, ignoring all rational thought and charged Germain. Time slowed down. Germain lifted the sword. Arno's eyes widened as he saw the swell of energy travel through the sword - and just as the light began to concentrate into one focused pinpoint of energy, he dropped to the ground and slid. The bolt of electricity just barely passed over him and dissipated into the air around him, leaving a metallic smell.

The moment he saw the opportunity, he took it, and leaped out of his slide. Time slowed even more as he watched Germain's upturned face, a mask of pure shock. Then he descended and slammed the wrist blade into Germain's chest.

But it never reached its target.

Germain's sword seemed to throw out a force field, and Arno was thrown backward into the pillar behind him. His head slammed into it with a nauseating _konk!_ and his vision swam before nearly blacking out.

When his vision cleared, Germain had disappeared and teleported a hundred meters away, underground.

 **-LINE BREAK-**

Elise sprinted across the dead fields, wiping tears from her eyes. She heard the clang of blades and the thunk of bodies as Arno easily killed the groups of guards watching over the courtyard.

She ignored the fighting and continued running, one destination in mind.

A separate tower that her father had shown her when he was still living.

 _I am so dumb for even suspecting this,_ she thought to herself but continued anyway.

It was tall, made of stone, and blended perfectly with her surroundings. No one would suspect anything about it, even an Assassin. The only people who knew the truth was the current Grandmaster and Elise herself.

Her fingers brushed the worn stone, looking for that slight imperfection. She continued to probe the stone until her fingers hit a slight opening, inside it, was a small sheet of paper with a diagram upon it.

 _"ut pater intellectus dirige nos, may the Father of Understanding guide us_ " she whispered, speaking to the paper.

Runes glowed across the paper and the wall of the tower, garbled words of the Templar Order - Egyptian hieroglyphs, lost dialects that even Elise didn't recognize, Arabic, English. And then it began to crumble, bit by bit, revealing a massive chamber. A blast of cold air hit her face, the smell of rotting corpses and papyrus and oil.

A wave of uncertainty passed over her, was this the right chamber? Had her father betrayed her? What if this was a trap? But she forced these worries down, this may be their only shot at Germain, and if the rumors were true, there would be no other way.

Breathing deeply, she took her first step, the sound of her boots echoing across the entire chamber. Then another step, then another, and on the seventh step, a whoosh rushed through the room, and the impossible happened. No longer was the chamber dark and dead, but beautiful and clean. Braziers surrounding the entire room lit, casting light upon the center of the room - a circular dais that held an orb with intricate designs all over it.

Surrounding the dais was one sentence, written in Latin, "When all seems lost and the foundation of the Order is corrupt, remove the orb and you will see the truth, but be warned, knowledge can be painful and one must endure pain to achieve it."

Once again, a wave of anxiety rose, but she steeled herself, and reached out towards the sphere. Elise barely touched it before pain shot through her entire body, a hot wire that seemed to replace her spine. She screamed, and screamed until her voice grew hoarse and she collapsed upon the ground, eyes squinted shut as if the loss of vision may subdue the pain.

When the pain subsided, and she opened her eyes, the world had changed. Screams rang from outside, massive balls of fire sent quakes through the ground. Elise examined herself, no longer was she human, but a ghost.

Walking was nigh impossible as well; her entire body felt as if she was encased in glue. Instead, she willed herself to go forward, struggling to reach the exit. And she saw something that would haunt her memories forever - which might not be that long.

Thousands of men lay strewn across the battlefield, screams that had been subdued by the tower's walls rang out, now amplified. The air was smoky, probably from the fiery rocks that seemed to shake the very foundations of the Earth as they landed upon the castle.

And then Elise sensed something, she didn't know what it was, but it was powerful, a sense that grew by the second.

Far off in the distance, a man appeared. Slowly his face came into view. The man was tall, about Arno's height, maybe a little shorter. He had broad shoulders and a cape that bore the Templar cross and wore chain mail armor. In his right hand, a simple, menial sword. In his left, he held the codex of the Templars.

All of a sudden, the windows above him broke as an Assassin, albeit a fat one, dove into a hay bail and ran off, a surprisingly golden sword in hand. Immediately, the man gave chase, the sword was obviously something of great importance. Elise willed herself to fly after them, watching the battle from afar.

Slowly, the Templar closed in and drew his sword. He roared and lunged at the Assassin, who somehow resembled Thomas de Carnillon - maybe he was just a lookalike.

The battle was over before it began - the Templar easily overwhelmed the overweight Assassin and casually disarmed him. Stooping, he picked up the sword, a beautiful blade coated with gold with runes that seemed... familiar somehow. Elise's eyes were captured by the beauty and the runes etched upon the sword.

"Snap out of it Elise, this isn't even real," she snapped at herself.

And then the world exploded in a halo of light.

A bolt of lightning streaked towards the Assassin and sent him flying.

The pure power of the discharge sent a shiver down the back of her spine, leaving her speechless.

Seconds later, the world disappeared in a flash of light, leaving only blackness.

A voice rang out, deep, slightly disorienting, "You see the dire situation you are in, the sword that you see, is known as the Sword of Eden a weapon that one of my kind created and intended to be a weapon of vast incomparable power."

The voice continued, "When used correctly, nothing can stand against it, but you may have a chance."

Strings of incomplete thoughts rushed through her mind, _The old Legend? The Father of Understanding? Jupiter?_

"No, I am not the Father," he responded, as if reading her mind, "I am Jupiter, and the old Legend as you know it, is somewhat of the truth."

"I am also not truly here, for my race was entirely wiped out millions of years ago."

"Before, we had weapons like these, many of them, but only a few remain - the apples of Eden and the Shroud of Eden are examples of our existence," he continued, "We are known as the Precursors, and our history is much too long to explain in words, or even in views, but, I can lend you the memories."

"Do it," Elise said.

"However, the process will leave you disoriented, and possibly unready for the coming fight that you know may end your's or your lover's life."

This was the one piece of information Elise had to understand, and as much as she knew she would regret her choice, she responded.

"I am ready."

"So be it," Jupiter acknowledged, a hint of pride within his eye.

He lifted his arms and his eyes grew larger and his pupils turned white. Immediately, a bolt of pure energy connected the two, and at first, Elise felt nothing.

Then the memories came, blocking out all vision and feeling.

Somehow, over the surge of knowledge, she heard Jupiter's voice, "Be forewarned Elise de La Serre, the path you take is not one that you may return from safely, I wish you luck."

He disappeared in an instant, but Elise didn't notice, she had already fallen unconscious.


	2. Sacrifice

As he forced himself into a standing position, Arno felt a sudden stab in his heart, and gasped out loud.

 _Elise._

With all the power he could muster, Arno sprinted towards Germain, guided by some unknown instinct. He leaped over barrels, slid across stone blocks, killed men without a thought, descended brick stairs into the catacombs - and came face to face with Elise.

"Elise... how?"

"I don't know," she muttered, slightly glancing down - refusing to meet his eyes as if she knew something horrendous that he did not.

"Elise, through my entire life, I have known you as a lioness on the battlefield, a silver-tongued diplomat in a conference, and a terrible liar," he paused, "Please, tell me the truth, I want to help you."

"When have I ever been in need of -"

Immediately, Arno brought up his finger, "No, don't say that."

"Arno... I don't need your help."

"Elise, have you seen yourself lately?" he snapped.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You pretend nothing is wrong and admit to nothing, but rage has consumed you, you don't see truth and don't understand anything from anyone else's view! The Elise I loved would be much calmer, less angry, and sure as fuck less blood thirsty."

He sighed, sometimes, talking to Elise was like talking to a stubborn child, "Elise, I didn't want to bring this up, but do you not remember Robespierre or Bellec? You no longer care of anything besides vengeance - and it will kill you if you do not slow down," a tear slid down his cheek as he saw her avoid his gaze, "Do my sacrifices mean of anything to you? I have given everything for you!"

"I know you have," she whispered, her eyes filmy as well.

"Then please, watch yourself inside there."

She nodded, breathing hitched.

"After you," she whispered and stepped back.

He sighed, and stepped in, ready for whatever lay within, even if death itself waited. Especially Death.

 **-LINE BREAK-**

The fight had started off-balanced. Elise could not charge Germain like she had hoped, because of that damned sword and Arno was no where to be seen, probably prepping to drop from the domed ceiling 30 or so feet up. Her only hope was to distract Germain until Arno was able to get into position.

Before she knew it, taunts began to ring from her mouth, "Did you think that because Monsieur De La Serre had no sons meant that vengeance would not fall upon you?"

"Ha! You and what army?" Germain responded.

"I don't need an army."

"And what of your Assassin pet?" he sneered.

A surge of rage surged through her, and she pushed down her urge to attack him.

"Germain, today will be the end of your life!" she shouted.

"Is that -"

And then Arno fell upon him, a eagle diving upon his prey. An explosion rang out, a loud white flash that carpeted chamber with thick smoke.

Elise almost smiled before sprinting into the cacophony, _Maybe the prophecy was wrong..._

She ran straight into the smoke, shouting Arno's name while doing so. A grunt came in reply off to her left.

"Elise, Germain -"

"Shh, he is dead my love, you need not worry no more."

"No, Elise, look behind you."

Elise turned, and her eyes widened as she located Germain, whose chest still moved stubbornly, consistently.

"But first, I'm stuck, help me."

Elise was on top of him prying off loose bits of rubble before he even finished his sentence. One after another, until only the pillar remained, a massive cylinder of stone that probably weighed well over a couple hundred pounds.

"On three?" Arno muttered.

"One, Two, Three, NOW!"

Together, they attempted to lift the pillar, to no avail.

"Again."

Germain stirred.

"Elise, help," Arno muttered from underneath the pillar.

"One, Two, Three!"

The pillar refused to budge, and at that moment, Elise knew that Jupiter had been right.

"I'm sorry Arno," she whispered, her eyes shimmering, her heart rising in her chest.

"What? Elise? NO!" he shouted.

"Please, you can't take him!" Arno groaned.

"Yes I can."

"Not with that sword."

"I have to," Elise whispered.

"Don't gamble your life," he whispered, choking on his words.

She was stuck in this position, the one that Arno had been in just a few days ago. _Arno or Germain? Arno or Germain?_

And she chose Germain, because she knew exactly what would happen next : a trade, a throw of the dice - Germain's life, for hers.

France's survival, for her death.

Arno's life for hers.

And that was what mattered most. She turned, and ran, ignoring Arno's anguished voice that seemed to shake the very foundations of this ancient chamber.

 **-LINE BREAK-**

"NO ELISE!" Arno yelled.

 _I can't let her die, I can't let her die!_

He roared, and a burst of unexplained energy surged through him, allowing him to throw off the entire pillar - a massive piece of stonework weighing probably 10 times more than he did.

The rest of the 30 seconds passed in a blur.

Arno remembered running - sprinting at record speeds even by his kind's standards.

The distance closed between him and Elise.

He remembered watching the fight between the two as they fought, Elise easily gaining the upper hand, until the sword shattered.

The atmosphere filled with an inhumanly scream, followed by gentle tinkles as bits of gold fell upon the ground.

Ten Meters.

Germain raised the naked sword, runes glowing blindingly.

Five Meters.

Elise stumbled back, Arno could see her eyes widening in shock and surprise.

Three Meters.

Tears filled Arno's eyes, _I'm sorry Elise._ And he rammed his entire 180 pound, 6 foot body into Germain - throwing the two of them across the ground.

Zero Meters.

Germain turned, rising to his feet with pure fury in his eyes. The sword of Eden supercharged, causing ripples in the very structure of the universe before a bolt of pure, white energy streamed from the tip of Germain's blade and into his chest. Immediately, Arno began to feel his body convulse rapidly, shattering bone and sending more pain to his brain than he had ever imagined.

But somehow, he managed to keep his eyes open, watching on as if a spectator rather than the victim. The naked blade seemed to resonate fury and wanting, wanting for absolute destruction for what the humans had done to its golden cover. He resigned to it, and fell to his knees as the blade moved in a downward path.

The sword found his sternum, and slid right through his body where it discharged all of the rest of its energy straight into his body.

Arno screamed in pain. A single tear traced its way down his cheeks. He felt his body go numb, and a sigh escaped his lips before he slid to the ground.

So much pain, so much blood and heat, yet... so much relief.

A vague regret shot through him, but that quickly dispersed.

 _My life for Vengeance._

 _My life for Paris._

 _My life for Elise's._

- **LINE BREAK-**

Elise sprinted towards Germain. This man could not get away again, not after all of the years she had dedicated towards this moment.

The moment Elise raised her sword, she knew that this was it. A day where one, if not two lives will be lost today. And although Germain was a horrible swordsman, he had a piece of Eden, and Elise knew, that that would take someone's life today.

Strike, Feint, Jab.

Parry, Duck, Kick.

Germain stumbled.

Slash.

The ethereal weapon's casing shattered.

 _No..._

The runes glowed, an unearthly scream filled her ears that was followed by a wave of pure energy.

Her eyes widened.

One step back, then another.

Germain lifted his blade, runes glowing, his eyes as wide as hers with anger and frustration, for he knew that today, his life would end as well.

Elise closed her eyes, if her life could be given to save others, then so be it.

She waited for the bolt.

 _One Second._

 _Two Seconds._

 _Three Seconds._

And then an explosion, throwing her backward into a pillar. More pain.

 _How am I still alive?_

She found her answer when her eyes opened.

And slid to her knees, speechless.

Tears slid from her eyes as she knelt next to the still figure, a body that was seemingly uninjured - until she turned it over. The body belonged to Arno's, and right in the center of it was a massive hole, smoking and blackened by the pure heat from that cursed blade.

 _Arno, please wake up, please._ She begged silently.

But Elise knew that he was already dead, he had to be. No one could survive with an injury as dreadful as the one that smoked in front of her.

But Arno somehow did.

His eyes flew open and fluttered weakly.

"Elise, I don't - "

She cut him off with a bear like hug.

"Arno, don't ever do that again," she whispered, crying.

"Elise, I don't have much time, you of all people should know that that I'm barely holding on right now..."

The tears fell again, "I'm so sorry," Elise said, voice muffled.

"What for?" Arno asked.

"For everything. For bringing you into this mess," she sobbed, "For letting anger consume me, for blaming you, I'm -"

Her outburst was cut off with his kiss, full of passion and love.

"Don't be sorry, don't ever say that, especially since it was I who chose this life." he whispered.

"You're dying, Arno, because of me."

"No, I'm dying for you, there is a difference, and if forced to make these decisions again, I would gladly follow you and repeat everything I've done - for you," he said.

"You weren't supposed to die," she whispered underneath her breath.

Arno didn't hear her, he was too busy looking for something. Elise caught a glimpse of gold and green, maybe a ring?

"Elise... look at me."

She raised her eyes.

"I know how hard this is for you, but, when I pass, move on," his voice broke, "just remember me."

And then he lifted a box, colored matte black with a Cross on top and the Assassin symbol underneath.

"I planned to ask this of you once this was over, but now, well," he gestured to his body, "I guess I'll just give this to you as a memory of me and a symbol of our love and how unity between the Templars and Assassins is possible."

Elise's eyes shone, once again vulnerable for tears, "Arno..."

"Please," he whispered, "I'm slipping, I can feel it, I don't have much longer."

And then he opened the box.

Elise gasped, the rings were beautiful, but simple. A perfect band of gold for Arno, and a band of diamond for her. Beset within the jewels was a Templar Cross with the Assassin seal within it.

 _"_ Of course," she whispered, tears sliding from her eyes once again.

And then they kissed.

For the few seconds it lasted, Elise could almost pretend that they were still inside the Cafe, enjoying each other's presence and bodies. But slowly, reality overcame her. His movements slowed, his lips cooled, and then he stilled.

And she knew that Arno Victor Dorian had passed.

 **Whew, finally done! I know, I know I took forever, but I kinda lost motivation to write until a few days ago. Ill be posting more recently, and don't worry! Arno will be coming back, or not ;D**


	3. The Brotherhood

Elise stumbled as she dragged Arno towards the Cafe, ignoring the inquisitive and disgusted looks shot at her direction. Tears continued to endlessly cascade down her cheeks, blurring her vision.

Arno had deserved a full, happy life - the one man whom she could trust and love. Now, he was dead, because of her and her ignorance.

If only she was faster.

If only she was better.

If only she had realized how much Arno truly was to her.

But she had chosen vengeance, and he had sacrificed his life for hers. Now, they were both alone and separated.

Every step that she took seemed heavier, Arno's body seemed to increase in weight, her eyes released a new torrent of tears, and her legs gave out as she struggled to continue her trek. And then her vision went black.

-line-break-

Elise awoke and found herself looking for Arno, trying to find his warm embrace - only to find nothing but empty space. Then time caught up to her as she remembered what had happened; Arno's sacrifice for her life. And once again, a torrent of tears escaped her eyes, eventually drying them out.

When the tears finally stopped and her head began to clear, she found herself in a humble room modestly furnished. The bed she lay on was soft and comfortable, but the walls felt like those of a prison. Hanging on a bar were fresh clothes, which she was grateful for.

The moment Elise stepped out, she muttered a string of curses that would probably make her teachers at the Maison de Royale wash her mouth with soap a hundred times.

Once again, she found herself in the impressive structure of the Assassin sanctuary - and although a beautiful work of stone masonry, it was quite depressing. One, the hooded figures couldn't help but remind her of Arno. Two, the last time she had been here, the majority of the Master Assassins had wanted her captured and thrown into a dungeon. And three, she was probably considered as a criminal due to Bellec's death. In fact, Elise was surprised that she was still alive and not inside a dungeon of some sort.

Overall, a great place for her to be.

But she had no choice but to find the Mentor and get the answers she were looking for. So she forced her feet to move, following the signs that had probably been set for her sake.

It didn't take long before Elise found herself in the main hall, a massive cavern flanked on either side by stone statues - among them included those that Arno had pointed out to her so long ago - Altair, Ezio Auditore de Firenze, Thomas de Carnillon, and Amunet, probably her favorite Assassin merely due to the fact that she had shown that women were as capable as men were.

She took a deep breath, steeled her resolve, and began to walk down the hallway. Along the way, she saw that one of the pedestals were empty and bits and pieces of stone were lying around it, ready to be assembled and built. Elise had her suspicions for who the statue was meant to commemorate, but she wasn't sure.

When at last she reached the chamber where the Assassins often met, she was astonished. Because rather than weapons, she found respect greeting her. Every Assassin, even the Mentor Trenet, who was a little miffed, turned toward her, raised a hand and pushed it towards her, thumb first - originally an Egyptian blessing, now the Assassin's common salute.

Elise was speechless.

"We must thank you Grandmaster, for ending both the Reign of Terror and Germain's tyrannical rule over the Order," Trenet said.

"And although it took Mirabeau, Bellec," Trenet paused, gauging Elise's expression, "and Arno's lives, the Brotherhood will be forever grateful for your work."

Trenet began to speak again, more slowly and hesitantly, as if she held a secret that she could not bear to part with.

"It may seem as if we forget the many Assassins who have died for our cause, but that is not so. As a matter of fact," Trenet paused and raised her forefinger, pointing towards the empty pedestal,"the stand of stone that you may have seen as you entered our chambers is intended for Arno himself - for ending Germain's reign, and for granting the Assassins a powerful foothold in France by eradicating many of our enemies. He will be forever remembered among the Assassins as a legend, alongside Altair, Ezio de Firenze, and Thomas de Carnillon."

"But Germain's end is not the end of our problems, Grand Master de La Serre."

"What do you mean?" Elise asked.

"We have fallen on hard times, Elise, and we need answers," Trenet paused, "I know you wish to grieve for your loss, as we wish to as well, but we must ensure that our Brotherhood lives on as the assertive power of France."

The Assassin Mentor raised a finger, and Elise found herself contained within a tightly knit circle of Assassins, men and women alike.

"Don't do this Trenet."

"And to ensure this, that means that you, as the Grandmaster of the Templar Order of France, must go," Trenet snarled, all previous signs of courtesy gone. The circle of Assassins closed in, a dozen highly trained killers that she knew she couldn't defeat or escape from.

"Stop this right now!" Elise shouted.

"Oh Elise, so young and naive, just like your disgusting, Templar-loving boyfriend."

"You will not speak of Arno like that!" Elise's voice rose to an outraged scream, "He saved your arse - no, he saved every single one of your arses! And now you dare to turn your back to him?!"

"If the former Grandmaster had lived and we did not choose to kill him, your Brotherhood would be nothing but a pile of rubble and bodies cast down by Germain himself! The very man that we killed!"

Trenet's gaze remained cruel, not a hint of comprehension or sympathy upon her face.

She turned towards the advancing Assassins, her vision hazy with fury and her voice cracking with strain, "And what of you? Do you not have a mind of your own? Can you not think for yourselves and see that Trenet is committing an act that goes against your very Creed? CAN YOU NOT SEE THIS?!"

The circle of bodies continued to close in.

"Arno awaits, Templar, " Trenet hissed.

The last thing Elise saw was Trenet's eyes, chilling, multi-colored, and very, very familiar. A chilling sneer spread across her face, and she winked, before Elise's vision turned black and she collapsed upon the ground, unconscious.

 **Sorry, short chapter, but you got to love the cliff hanger right? And also I know I haven't updated in forever, but that's mainly because of motivation - to be honest. See u in chap. 3! (Don't worry, it'll come sooner than this one:D).**


	4. Reformation

Elise found herself dumped in a Saint Denis alley - or so it seemed - when she awoke. She had heard of its broken down spires and old, worn down buildings. Attached to her bracers, she found a note scribbled out as if the person writing it had been in a hurry. The messenger had wrote,

 ** _Elise de la Serre, Templar Grandmaster,_**

 ** _I am honestly sorry for this - the Assassin's behavior, the Mentors,_ our _hostile behavior, and most of all, Arno's death. We know how much it has weighed on you, for the same weight rests on our shoulders._**

She could see slight creases and stains, as if the writer's hand had been shaking.

 _ **Among all of the French Brotherhood, Arno had been the one Assassin who wasn't corrupt in his ideals. Know that I risked much to deliver this note to you and take caution with it, for it contains information that would crush many of the Brotherhood if it were to fall to enemy hands.**_

 ** _If you do not know the true location of our sanctuary, there is a map attached to this note on the back._**

Elise turned it over, her benefactor had not lied. Pinned to the paper with a bit of metal was a crumpled sheet of paper exposing the sanctuary and Cafe's location.

 ** _Understand that if we were at our peak of strength, if Mirabeau had lived and still ruled or if the Templars hadn't gained so much power for the time Germain ruled, we would be much more courteous._**

 ** _However, Trenet has gotten desperate. Her income, along with her comrades has dropped to nearly nothing (for confidential reasons, I cannot disclose the exact number). She sees this moment as the perfect chance to utterly crush and destroy the French Order and beyond with Germain gone._**

 ** _As a matter of fact, Trenet is so sure of herself that that she is constructing a statue for herself - alongside legends like Altair, Ezio, and many others. Representing her 'oh so mighty power' and 'amazing intelligence' for absolutely wiping your Order. And to go even further, she has declared Arno a traitor for merely communicating with you. She has deemed it necessary to wipe his name from the records. The scale must be balanced once more - the Order needs to rise as a democracy. This is why you are alive rather than dead, because a number of us realized the importance of balance. Without control, the Creed is merely chaos, especially with a leader like Trenet._**

 ** _If you are questioning who I am, know that I am a friend who will provide transportation if you need it. Know that I left you the money in the envelope in your coat pocket. And know that I shared Arno's concern over the Brotherhood's future and our alliance with the Order. With a powerful and just leader on either side of the war, we can finally unite and achieve the goals that our groups have both wished for._**

 ** _And remember to trust no one, not even Assassin or Templar, unless you know these individuals personally._**

 ** _My comrades and I wish you luck on your journey, whether it be rebuilding your Order, helping our Brotherhood from absolute destruction and tyranny, or just leaving this behind, although most of us do wish that you would join our cause as we understood your love and the beauty that you once saw in France. We know your power as you and Arno have eradicated Germain - which should've earned both you and Arno a place that will be forever preserved in history books and records from both Templars and Assassins alike._**

 ** _If you look to your hip, you will find the Sword of Eden, as it was called, and you may use it however you like. Discover its ways and use them for the greater good._**

She looked down to her hip, and gasped. There, in her scabbard was the sword, a golden rod of an invincible and incredibly sharp metal. This Assassin really did wish for her to succeed.

 _ **Along with the legendary weapon, we have equipped you with our standard equipment - smoke, flash, cherry, and poison bombs, a phantom blade, several rounds of ammunition, and the well known hidden blade(watch your fourth finger). Use them wisely and restock on them at shops if needed (many blackmarkets exist, and the dealers know how to get their hands on Assassin grade items).**_

 _ **We wish you luck in your voyage.**_

 _ **And take hope, for you are not the only one from both Orders upon this path of reunification and reformation. That is the last message I will leave for you.**_

 ** _Good Luck,  
the Green Assassin _**(A/N OC, OC!)

Elise swallowed and stood up from her sitting position. The Order and its counterpart had been part of a world much bigger than she had expected. And even though she had that urge to just walk away, to leave this all behind, she knew that she would return, for this was what she had been made for; An instrument, a tool alongside many others that would be key to reversing nearly irrevocable damage that would unbalance the power of this world.

And she wanted to begin her fight for her Order immediately.

 _ **-line break-**_

The sky of Saint Denis was concealed behind pillars of smoke and wisps of the water vapor that made clouds. Droplets of water fell from the sky, accentuating the depressed state of the once bright city. Beggars lined the street and orphans ran about, victims of the Revolution. In the middle of it all was a figure dressed in a dull grey outfit, complete with dozens of buttons that lined his cloak, a schiavona and pistol upon the hip, and peculiar leather bracers upon both arms. His face was scarred in certain places, evidence of a hard past, and his eyes held a deep cunning that was rarely ever seen upon the average person.

To those unaware, the man seemed to be a military figure sent to oversee the depressing growth of one of the most poor cities in France. But if one paid attention closely, they would notice the cross emblazoned upon his chest - a red cross overlaid with a silver lining. He stood still, so much more wealthy taller than the rest of the populace, yet somehow blending in with its surroundings.

And his eyes were trained upon an unconscious women in an alley who had just gained her senses and stood, eyes already alert. As the cloaked figure watched on, he noticed her normally relaxed figure stiffen, as a sixth sense kicked in. And from that one action, he knew that she was one of the many descendants of those who came before, the mystified civilization known to him as the Precursors. And if his senses served him right, as they normally did, then the girl in the alley would be a powerful alley, or a dangerous enemy.


	5. Franciade

**This story's been goin on for a few months now! Thanks to all those who added this fanfic on their favorites and follows list! And to the one guy who actually REVIEWED, thanks! (Please guys, save an author, review[not to hateful criticism appreciated])**

 _Half a Year Later_

Elise perched upon a spire overlooking all of Franciade, a slight frown playing over her lips. Over the last month of missions and killings, she had almost grown used to the depressed look and gloomy shadows of the barren city. No longer did the mood of Franciade drag at her emotions...but that didn't mean she was completely content upon sitting on one of the highest and most dangerous roofs of Franciade, especially when the city seemed to have the intent of sending Elise over the edge of the building with relentless gusts of wind.

The semi-Assassin attire that she now wore didn't help much either, and Elise was forced to endure the cold of the night in her rather pitiful outfit that had been given to her nearly half a year ago, a period of time that now felt like an eternity. Once, it had been comfortable and warm, but after weeks of climbing and combat, she had soon discovered that the outfit was rather cheap — unlike the uniform that Arno usually wore — and had begun to wear down to the point where it was almost useless in warming her body. And for once, she looked back upon her days at the Maison de Royales with regret, realizing that the art of weaving and sewing may have actually been useful in keeping her warm and focused rather than the threadbare cloak, dirty breeches, and ripped coat.

Still, even through all the distractions, she managed to persevere — remaining absolutely stationary and watching on, looking for the man she knew she had to kill.

If her father lived, he would've looked upon her actions with distaste, probably questioning why she was murdering those for her own benefit, why she was committing the crime herself. And for a time, Elise had agreed. She had hated what she did, she complained, she whined. But as the months passed, she changed, and began to understand that sometimes, doing the dirty work for yourself could be crucial to your success or the demise of everything you love. Tears threatened to break as Arno's face surfaced once more, but she forced it back down and focused once more upon the courtyard her perch overlooked, and the information she knew of the man that had been her target for so long.

Philippe Rose, the 'commander' of a considerably large band of bandits, had evaded capture and death for years from the officials, and weeks from Elise, by remaining deep underground, mining for an unknown item considered to be of utmost importance to Trenet and the expansion of the now corrupt Brotherhood, something that Elise could not allow.

But after months of his excavation for whatever he was looking for, he slipped up, and information was passed between hands — eventually reaching the Assassin's considerably smaller, but still strong, web of contacts stationed throughout France.

It was then through the hands of a man going by the code name of "Ice-cream"— whom she still did not fully trust — that had allowed Elise to gain access to the exact whereabouts of Rose. Which was why she found herself perched upon one of the broken down, dirty roofs of Franciade instead of a relatively more comfortable bed in her apartment.

Elise knew that this was her opportunity — her first stepping stone to rebuild her Order, and she forced herself to remain completely focused upon the clearing where she knew her target would surface.

First came the 30 minute mark, then the hour, then the second hour.

When the third hour came, Elise felt her insides twist with anxiety and worry - not from worry of losing her target, but from the nervousness and stress of losing the only benefactor and 'friend' she could reach.

An entire 4 hours had passed after the supposed time before Rose appeared. A man of little comforts, Philippe Rose stood only at five feet, yet seemed incredibly large horizontally — even by wealthy standards. He held an ax, or rather, a club topped with a stone, and had several knives upon his body. His build was stocky, and even from here, Elise wrinkled her nose in disgust at the man's attire — a torn uniform covered with yellow and brown stains that brought rather disgusting thoughts to the forefront of her mind.

She shuddered and continued to watch on, looking for the possible guards that her spy had alerted her for. But as Philippe walked, she saw that he had no guards and was completely unaccompanied. The man continued to take his unrealistically high strides, each step bringing him closer to her hiding spot. She watched on, and waited.

One, Two, Three!

Elise leaped off the building in a swan dive, landing in the pile of leaves behind the man and threw secrecy to the winds.

She pulled herself out of the pile of leaves and pulled out Arno's pistol, aiming at where she thought the false general would be. But it wasn't there.

Because in every direction Elise turned, a man stood, grotesque in appearance, wide set and weak in stature - but there were too many. They had covered every exit possible, even the windows far above.

Elise was utterly and completely trapped, and for once, completely speechless.

Rose grinned, but the smile never reached his eyes.

"What do we have 'ere aye?"

Elise couldn't respond.

He stepped forward and grabbed her neck.

"I said, what do we have 'ere?"

His actions shook her from her stupor. With a flick of her wrist, she dislocated his entire forearm, pure rage surging through her.

"Do not touch me," she snarled.

"You're a feisty one," he growled, clutching his forearm, his sadistic smile gone.

"How would you like it if we tamed you, eh? Like all women are meant to be, tamed, weak, and submissive."

Elise could barely hold her anger in. Her fingers twitched, itching to draw her sword, and she could feel her entire body shake.

"You're a dead man," she snarled, her voice barely a whisper.

Rose laughed, "Is that so? And how will you plan to get about it when you're dead?"

The men around him laughed as well.

"You have two choices darlin'," his sneer widened even further, "One, we tame you, and then we kill you, or two, we kill you. How does that sound, eh?"

"I think I'll go with option three, where I bring you down with me."

"Oh, Elise, Elise, Elise," Rose grinned as he saw her back straighten, "Yes, we know all about you, and we know of your abilities. Do you not think that we haven't prepared for the day where you would try to hunt us down?" he sneered at her reaction, "It surprises you eh? That us mongrels **(A/N: yes, the bad grammar is there on purpose** ) actually have brain to think?"

"That doesn't matter," she snarled, "I'm gonna kill you anyway."

Elise raised the pistol in her hands, and brought a bullet into the chamber. As she began to align the sight of the weapon with Philippe Rose's forehead, she saw bright flash of metal, and a slight change in the wind.

A second later, Arno's gun went spinning from her hands, a knife embedded within the barrel.

"You may be quite the capable women, but ye too impatient without yer dad to watch what you do, and ye too rash. That's why you never gonna overpower and beat us."

The general signaled once with his hands, and two men dressed in rags stepped forward with a suspiciously large bag and a whole array of knives. While one man lifted a blade and tested its weight, flexibility, and sharpness, the other stepped behind Elise with a coiled up rope. He forced her hands behind her back and tied them tightly but not so much to restrict blood flow. Philippe nodded to the man holding the tray containing the knives and lifted one - apparently satisfied with its balance and design.

For an old man, Philippe moved surprisingly fast. Philippe Rose appeared to be a blur as he whipped around, his arm raised over his own shoulder. Then his arm shot forward  
\- faster than what Elise thought to be possible - and with it, a convoluted blade with edges so serrated and twisted, it could only be meant for torture.

A millisecond later, the blade found its target and buried itself into her stomach.

Elise looked up in shock, surprised that a man so old and overweight could move and throw with such accuracy and speed. A second later, a numbness overcame her body and she felt her knees buckle and crash into the stone courtyard with a thud. She heard a hysterical inhale, _was that herself?_ and felt a wave of pain that spread throughout her entire body, her stomach the epicenter.

With all the strength Elise forced her head up and tried for a defiant glare as she stared at Rose.

The general stepped towards her, all signs of the drunken, sex hungry man gone. His multicolored eyes seemed to burn into her face - a pair of lasers powered by cunning, fury, and pure cruelty.

"You see the mistake you have made eh? You see who I truly am," he backed off and beckoned to the man who had retreated into the crowd before turning back to Elise.

"I want you to feel the pain that you have given to me and my men, chasing us relentlessly across this fucking shithole," his voice was quiet and sharp, each word clipped, "I want you to cry out in pain and gasp as I kill you and torture you!"

His voice quieted once more, assuming a much more conciliatory tone, "But I am not without mercy, for the long painful torture that you deserve will not come. Rather, I will kill you relatively quickly and reunite you with your father and mother."

In two long strides, Rose covered the small amount of distance between him and Elise before leaning down and roughly pulling the convoluted piece of metal from her stomach. With a disgusting _squelch!,_ the twisted blade fell out, pulling out bits of flesh, skin, and blood with it. And Elise was forced to stare on in horror as she watched the blood and flesh of her body rip out and fall upon the ground.

She tried to hold in the scream that threatened to break free from her lips, but ultimately failed and toppled to the side, her body shivering. Her chest was heaving and sweat poured from her face as the pain began to roll in. Each wave a new spike of pure agony. Each wave a jumble of pent up emotions and memories. And with it, came Arno's face.

The soft smile that occasionally spread across his face, the warm feeling of being pressed against his body, the sense of being whole that came with his presence, and above all, the feeling of pure confidence and feeling that always followed him.

So when Elise looked up for the last time and found Rose poised to throw a blade - this time one designed to kill - that would lodge itself right into her heart, she felt a sense of peace, rather than fear. She watched on as his hand flicked forward and released the blade held in his hand. A weapon that flew through the air on a path that she knew would kill.

Her consciousness sharpened to the minuscule point and the distance between it, and her chest. She closed her eyes and genuinely smiled for the first time - ready at last for her time upon this world to end.

But it never hit.

Because right in front of her chest was the hand of a person she could recognize anywhere. A gloved hand with slender fingers that had somehow managed to stop the blade's flight towards her chest.

She looked up, and saw the one man who had once brought beauty and joy to her life. The man who she never expected to see in the rest of her lifetime.

Arno Dorian.

 **Had some new edits, but you guys had to see that coming right? Well, anyways, hope it was an enjoyable read - and please, save and author and REVIEW! Thanks.**


	6. Arno Dorian

Elise watches as Arno uncurls his hand, bit by bit, each finger slowly unwrapping itself from around the blade... before entirely letting go.

It clatters to the ground with a loud, metallic clang.

For a few seconds, the sound vibrates in the air, before slowly fading away.

Then Arno begins to speak, his voice the same as it was half a year ago - yet different somehow. It is still a baritone voice, a voice that carries in the courtyard easily, even though he does not raise his voice even slightly. But it is also more menacing, more cruel. The voice of a man who has seen and carried far too much on his shoulders at too young of an age.

"Leave, now, and I might let you live. But if you stay, I will show you what happens when you harm the innocent."

The air is quiet for a few seconds, still in shock at Arno's display of speed and power, and then the laughs broke out.

"You are but one man!" Rose guffawed, staring at the man standing above her, "We are dozens, hundreds, thousands! You cannot defeat us!"

"Six months ago, that may have been the case," he pauses, "it is no longer," he says. His voice is full of menace. He has changed.

She can feel a sense of unease among Rose's men, they are nervous, curious at the game Arno must be playing. But she can also tell that something is not right, the mere presence of Arno should be impossible, and the thoughts and emotions that shot through her were incoherent and barely understandable.

"You know of the legend, the man who walks the catacombs, who guards the catacombs," he snarls.

What he says doesn't ring a bell, and she watches through a dull haze of pain and... and something else as he steps forward.

"Now Leave."

They don't, and charge instead.

 **Short Chapter, and I know that this is the first time I've updated this story in like a month. I'm a terrible procrastinator and don't have much drive to write this.**

 **COMMENT AND ACTUALLY TELL ME IF YOU WANT THIS STORY TO CONTINUE**

 **bye.**


	7. Merciless

The few seconds that followed passed in a blur, literally. Elise could only see glimpses of Arno's face as he cut down each and every raider — ignoring their pleas of

mercy, their cries of surrender; he plowed through their ranks, completely ignoring the flashing swords and iron projectiles that never seemed to even scratch him, while

his axe and his swords landed lethal blow after blow.

But all this, all this bloodshed and power did not intimidate Elise, or scare her. Instead, it was the few glimpses of Arno's eyes that made her heart rise into her throat —

eyes that were dark, angry, and merciless. Eyes that held no regret or flicker as he killed one man after another, no hesitation or flinch as he cut down men on their

knees, already begging for mercy. And at this moment, Elise realized something. The man who had held and supported her while no one else did, who had snuck into

parties and bedrooms to meet her, had gone, and left with the boy who had stolen cookies and holy apples.

—LINE BREAK—

Cole stood amongst the last rank of the raiders. But he wasn't moving to run from, or attack the Assassin that had somehow cut through three quarters of their ranks.

He stood perfectly still, watching, and listening. His father had sent him, both to watch over France's growth and recovery from its revolution, and an Assassin his father

refused to name. It had frustrated him, having a father who tried to make every moment educational or beneficial in some way, but that didn't matter any longer.

Because this Assassin, Arno Dorian, seemed to fit his father's descriptions pretty well.

 **Another Short Chapter, Sorry :(**


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